Sharp Dressed Mutant
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Pairings: J-S, K-K, Bobby-St. John, Rogue-Todd, Pietro-Tabby, Lance-Amara, Jamie-Rahne Summary: The Brotherhood (well, Pietro - with a little help from Kurt) has pranked the mansion! Retaliation is expected, and, of course, you know: this means WAR!
1. Sticking Point

**Sticking Point**

* * *

The Brotherhood had attacked.

And they'd chosen a rather…odd form of confrontation.

Bumper stickers.

Everywhere the Xavier Institute students looked there were bumper stickers, plastered all over every available surface and blaring out insulting, offensive, and downright **rude** messages.

Some of them were even funny – but not to the people they were aimed at.

A scream echoed from Jean's room, and the kids who were awake so far – Rogue, Kitty, Bobby, Jubilee, Rahne and Jamie – pelted down the hall, expecting to find Magneto strangling her, or something worse.

What they found was Jean glaring at a sticker on her mirror, Scott trying to calm her down.

"Jean, it's not that bad," Cyclops said soothingly.

"Not that bad!" Jean shrieked. "It says 'I'm not a flake; I'm just a blonde in disguise!' Forget the fact that I am **not** shallow; this is my **natural** hair color." She huffed and tossed her bright red tresses over her shoulder.

"Which explains the red rinse you keep in your medicine cabinet," Rogue said smartly.

Jean's face burned and, using her telekinesis, she ripped the sticker off her mirror, leaving behind strips of glue on the polished silver surface.

At that moment, St. John ran in, waving a burning piece of paper in the air. "I'm gonna get those jokers if it's the last thing I do!" he roared.

"What's it say, Sparky?" Bobby asked, coming up to stand behind his boyfriend. "Or, rather, since you've incinerated it – what **did** it say?"

Pyro's face burned almost as red as Jean's had. "Something about all my sexual sparks sizzling out," he mumbled so only Iceman could hear.

Bobby choked, but wisely refrained from commenting.

A roar echoed through the mansion.

"I guess they got Wolverine," Jubilee said, popping her gum unconcernedly. "Should we go check it out?"

The others exchanged glances.

"Nah," they all said.

No matter how fueled by anger-induced adrenaline they were, none of them were stupid enough to take on Logan in a Berserker Rage.

"We need to get them back," Jamie said. "If not even Mr. **Logan** is safe…"

Rahne shuddered. "Aye, Jamie me lad, that's true. We should get 'em back before Logan thinks ta do it."

"Or else they'll end up dead," Rogue put in. "And I don't know about the rest of ya, but I finally got Todd slightly civilized, and I ain't about to let nobody – not even **Logan** – hurt him."

"Same with me and Lance," Amara put in as she padded into the room. "If anyone's going to take rockhead out, it's going to be **me**."

Kurt teleported in right on her heels, his tail singed and sending off sparks. "Ack!" he bellowed. "Berserker has got to learn to calm down. It was only a **joke**, fer Gott's sake."

Kitty's eyes narrowed on her boyfriend. "Kurt?" she asked sweetly.

"Ah, yah, Katzchen?" Kurt asked distractedly, focusing on putting the sparks on his tail out.

"What do you know about this bumper sticker plague?" Kitty asked.

Kurt froze. He carefully turned around and upon seeing almost the whole school gathered in Jean's room – and looking at him with murderous intent – gulped. "Ah…nozzing?" he offered lamely, before teleporting away.

"Get 'im!" was Kitty's battle cry and all the girls rallied around her, using their various powers to track the Fuzzy Elf down.

The boys, for their part, wondered just how much trouble Kurt's latest practical joke was going to get them into.


	2. You Can Run, But You Can't Hide

**You Can Run, But You Can't Hide**

* * *

"'I go from zero to bitch in point five seconds,'" Pietro said.

Todd chuckled.

Pietro shot the amphibious mutant a diamond-sharp glare. "That's not **funny**, Tolensky."

"Neither was getting together with Wagner and pranking the whole mansion, Maximoff," Lance pointed out. "It took me some damn fast talking to keep Amara from frying my ass."

"Same here," Todd put in. "Rogue almost drained me – and not in a good way, neither."

"Still…" Pietro pouted down at the bright pink T-shirt in his hands. "Where do they get off implying I'm a **girl**?"

"You spend more time on your hair and clothes than even Kitty does," Kurt pointed out from his position swinging from the overhead light. He'd come over to the Brotherhood house to escape the girls out for his blood – and his head on a pike – back at the mansion.

"And considering how fast you can go, that's a **lot** of time," Lance jibed.

"Why am I the only one that was hit?" Pietro asked. "Surely the rest of you didn't get off **that** easy, even if you weren't involved."

Lance shrugged. "Amara gave me one that said, 'I have more rocks in my head than are in the Grand Canyon.'"

Freddie snorted. "And you didn't send a quake after her?"

"Are you **nuts**, man?" Lance asked disbelievingly. "She's Magma – like a little shaking would bother her. Besides, the last time I sent a quake after her, I had blue balls for a week." He shifted uncomfortably and grimaced at the memory.

"TMI, man," Todd told him, receiving a glare in return.

"What about you, Kermit?" Pietro asked peevishly.

Glaring at the nickname, Todd said simply, "Rogue and I are cool."

"Not for much longer if this keeps up," Freddie put in.

"I wonder who's going to be hit next?" Kurt asked naïvely.

"Oh, man…" Todd groaned.

Lance joined him. "You **had** to say it, didn't you, Fuzzy?"

"Vhat?" Kurt asked, confused.

"We're doomed," Pietro pronounced.

Freddie nodded vigorously. "Oh, yeah. You've hexed us all."

"Don't you mean jinxed?" Todd asked.

"Nope," Freddie said. "When Wanda finds out about what Pietro did…"

Pietro gulped. Hell hath no fury like Wanda Maximoff pissed off. "Mommy," he squeaked.

Even he couldn't go fast enough to outrun his sister's wrath.


	3. Riot Girl

**Riot Girl**

****

* * *

"In the beginning, there was Goth. And Goth said, 'Let it get darker.'"

Rogue fumed at the words she'd read off the T-shirt in her hands. "When I get my hands on that little…"

"Er…not so little, babe," Todd broke in. "I think Freddie sent ya that one."

"Ooh," Rogue growled. "What is going **on** here? I wasn't even involved in this whole 'Kill Kurt' thing."

"All's fair in love and war?" Todd offered lamely.

"And baby, this is both," Rogue said grimly, wadding up the T-shirt in her hands and throwing it on the floor. "It's time to take off the gloves."

Todd gulped. "Ah…ya don't mean that literally, do ya?"

Rogue's smile was cotton candy sweet and bunny slippers fluffy – which Todd knew meant she was ready to kill someone. Or at least drain and dismember them. "Of course not, Todd," she said innocently, her accent thickening into a Southern drawl. "Little 'ol me would never drain someone just for playin' a prank."

Her eyes narrowed and her voice went cold. "But that doesn't mean I won't do somethin' worse," she spat.

Todd smiled meekly at his girlfriend and tried to think. Should he call the police? The Army? The National Guard?

There was gonna be a riot, he just knew it.

_Look out, Bayville, Rogue's gone wild,_ he thought to himself.


	4. The Bitch Is Back

**The Bitch Is Back**

****

* * *

'I'm in shape. Round is a shape.'

Freddie hmmphed as he read the message on the size XXXL T-shirt.

It wasn't **his** fault that his mutation made it impossible for him to lose weight. And it was really rude of Rogue to bring it up.

"I told ya – ya shouldn't have pranked Rogue, Freddie," Todd scolded him. "She learned revenge from the best."

Freddie's brow wrinkled. "Kurt?" he asked, remembering that the fuzzy blue mutant was the one who started this whole thing, and he himself had yet to be hit – though he was having fun lobbing insults at the others.

Todd shook his head chidingly. "No, Logan," he said seriously. "Granted, the guy has a really warped sense of humor, but in addition to teaching the X-Geeks strategy tactics, he's also taught them the value of payback."

Freddie shivered. Wolverine was one of the scariest people he'd ever met – including Mystique! – and if he'd been giving Rogue and the others pointers on this 'mission'…

"We're doomed," Freddie said fatalistically.

Todd snorted. "No, **you're** doomed," he corrected. "I'm playing it smart and siding with my girlfriend."

Freddie grumbled, but nodded. Misery may love company, but he could understand Todd wanting to stick by his girl.

Even if she was a right bitch for sending him this shirt.


	5. John Bender, Eat Your Heart Out!

**John Bender, Eat Your Heart Out!**

****

* * *

'The 80's called; they want their look back.'

"Huh?" Lance said to the bumper sticker in his hands.

"You have what is referred to as a mullet, man," Todd told him as he hopped by.

"A mullet?" Lance asked. "What's that?"

"Your hairstyle, dude," Pietro said. "It is **so** two decades ago." He waved limply at the blondish-brown mess adorning the rock-tumbler's head.

Lance made a face; Pietro had been watching 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy' **way** too much. He had no idea how Tabby put up with him.

"Which is why the sticker says the 80's want their look back," Todd explained needlessly. Seeing Lance getting ready to shake something, his eyes bugged out and he shot out the door. "Later! I have a date with Rogue!"

"See if you can find me something to send to whatever jerk sent me this!" Lance yelled after him, before flopping down on the sofa.

"It could be worse," Pietro pointed out.

"How?" Lance asked defeatedly.

"They could've said you look like a reject from the Breakfast Club," Pietro said triumphantly, grinning.

"He **does** look like a reject from the Breakfast Club," Kitty retorted, walking through the doorway. "Have either of you seen Kurt? He shows up at school, but no one's been able to find him at the Institute for a week."

"I think he's hiding, Kit, don't know where," Lance said. "And which member of the Breakfast Club am I supposed to be?" he asked, needled.

"John Bender, the rebel stoner with messy blond hair, fingerless leather gloves and an earring," Kitty told him.

Grimacing, Lance stayed silent. He wasn't a stoner, but he had smoked a joint or two in his day, and Kitty knew it.

And anyone who looked at him could see he was dressed exactly as Kitty had stated.

"If Kurt's not here, I'm gonna go back to the mansion," Kitty said. "But before I go, would one of you guys **please** get Bobby? He iced up the pipes in the girl's locker room this morning – right when we were all showering after practice. I had to run out into the hall in nothing but a too-small towel."

Lance's gaze turned stony. His and Kitty's relationship may not have lasted very long, but he still considered her one of his closest friends. As well, Pietro had never liked Bobby since the time he'd done the same thing to the boy's locker room at school when he was the only one in there.


	6. Flambéed Ice

**Flambéed Ice**

****

* * *

'I'm not frigid, it's just my mutation!'

Staring at the bumper sticker in his hands, Bobby gasped. Then he glared.

St. John shook his head. "Oh, man. First me, now you. What is it, 'Pick on the Gay Guy's Sex Life' Week?"

"I think it's pretty much a mutant free-for-all," Jubilee put in from the open doorway, before disappearing with a pop of her ever-present gum.

Blinking after her, Bobby shook his head and closed the door, tossing the hand-lettered bumper sticker on the bed. "This is getting out of hand."

"I thought you were the one who liked a good practical joke," St. John pointed.

"Not when it's aimed at **me**!" Bobby exclaimed.

Hiding a smile, St. John said, "Well, be that as it may, you've been hit now. What are you gonna do?"

"Prank someone else," was the immediate answer.

St. John nodded and offered an alternative. "You know, instead of just getting whoever sent you that back…you could get even."

"Even?" Bobby asked, wrinkling his nose.

Finally unleashing his smile from its self-imposed restraints, St. John stalked towards his boyfriend. "Prove them wrong about you being frigid."

"About how would you **prove** that?" Bobby asked mirthfully. "You want to go have sex on the front lawn?"

"Actually, I was thinking I'd…heat you up…just right to get you to scream," St. John said blithely.

"That sounds rather…hot…Johnny," Bobby returned innocently as he unbuttoned his shirt. "But I am kinda cold…"

"I'll warm you up," St. John purred.

And then he pounced.

Hearing the impassioned screams from the boy's dorm, Kitty sighed. She should have known that Bobby 'Prankster Extraordinaire' Drake would get revved up over an insult chain.


	7. Green With Revenge

**Green With Revenge**

* * *

'It ain't easy bein' green – or slimy.'

"Hey, I ain't slimy," Todd protested, glaring at the modified bumper sticker in his hands.

"No, but ya **are** green," Rogue countered. "Mah favorite color." She smiled teasingly and tousled his green-tinged brown hair.

"And you're mine, Red," Todd replied, leaning up for a quick over-the-head kiss.

"So, now that you've been pranked, who are ya gonna get?" Rogue asked once their lips had disengaged.

"I have no clue," Todd said honestly, placing the bumper sticker on a nearby table. "I'd **like** to get whoever sent me this one."

"I don't know who did," Rogue told him.

"Neither do I – and we'll probably never figure it out," Todd said.

"So just get someone who's ticked ya off lately," Rogue suggested.

"Hmm," Todd mused thoughtfully. "That could work."

"Got anyone in mind?" Rogue asked.

A wicked gleam lighting his eyes, Todd said, "I know **just** the person…"


	8. Animal Instincts

**Animal Instincts**

* * *

'All men are animals, some just slip their psychic leash more often.'

Logan growled.

"What does it say, Logan?" Ororo asked her lover, peering at the hand-lettered bumper sticker in his hand.

"It says that Chuck uses his mind powers to leash the Wolverine," Logan snarled. He unsheathed the claws on his right hand and carved the bumper sticker to ribbons.

Storm, quite used to her lover's blazing temper after their two years together, was not surprised by his vicious actions. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm gonna get one of the kids, that's what," he replied.

"Why not just seek revenge on the person – or persons – who sent you this?" she asked reasonably.

"Because I can't tell who sent it," Logan grumbled. "Doesn't smell like anyone in particular, which means they planned this out."

"Good to see your assault tactics are getting through the children's thick skulls," Ororo chuckled, picking up on of her hair ribbons to tie her hair back. The French twist she soon sported showed off her neck.

"I suppose…" Logan agreed grudgingly, eyeing the expanse of bare café au lait skin.

Sitting down on their bed, Ororo asked, "Now, who are you going after?" She carefully arranged her skirt around her, not-so-accidentally flashing her bare legs in Logan's line of vision.

Passion gleamed in Logan's warm brown eyes. "At the moment…you, gorgeous," the Wolverine said.

And then he pounced.

Elsewhere in the mansion, the sounds of rumbling growls and purrs punctuated by high-pitched, husky laughter could be heard.

The children smiled – Logan in a good mood meant fewer training sessions.


	9. Of Gods And Mutants

**Of Gods And Mutants**

****

* * *

"Ah don't normally pray, since Ah don't believe in God, but considering the situation…is there any deity ya want me ta petition on your behalf?" Rogue asked.

"St. Jude?" Kitty said lacklusterly.

Rogue blinked. "I don't think it's **quite** that bad."

St. John snorted. "I think it **is** that bad," he countered.

Bobby gave them an uncomprehending look.

Rogue sighed. "St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes," she explained.

Comprehension dawned. "Yeah, Johnny's right," Bobby agreed. "It **is** that bad."

Rolling her eyes, Todd said, "Aw, c'mon guys. It isn't that off the wall to think that Kurt could make it."

Snorting, Bobby said, "**Logan's **on his tail. And he's mad about this whole insult chain thing that our favorite fuzzy dude started. What makes you think that Logan's gonna let him escape?"

Todd cringed and remained silent.

Kitty's faith faltered in the face of watching her boyfriend – tired from running for the past hour with no respite – climb up a tree to escape Logan's wrath and take a break. She grinned uncertainly at the others. "Hope?" she squeaked out.

Rogue made a noise of disgust. "Fine, then, St. Jude it is." She shook her head and, sending a silent prayer to said Saint, went back to watching her 'brother' play teleport tag across the lawn with Logan.

Kurt would need all the help he could get, deific or otherwise.


	10. Payback Is Best Planned In The Afterglow

**Payback Is Best Planned In The Afterglow**

****

* * *

'I used to be schizophrenic, but now we're just fine.'

Jamie chuckled.

Brow furrowing, Rahne asked, "Aren't ye upset, Jamie-lad?"

"Why should I be?" Jamie asked practically. "It's not like it's insulting or anything. And besides, whoever sent this to me is an idiot."

"Oh?" Wolfsbane asked, peering over her boyfriend's shoulder at the T-shirt in his hands. "Why's that?"

"Lots of people use schizophrenia as a synonym for MPD – Multiple Personality Disorder," he said at her uncomprehending look. "When in reality they aren't the same thing at all. And even if they were – I don't **have** multiple personalities, just multiple bodies."

"And even then, only occasionally," she added.

"Exactly," Jamie agreed. "Now, who should I get in return?"

Pondering on that for a moment, Rahne finally said, "Why dontcha get one of the Brotherhood? The haven't been hit in a while."

"Sounds good," Jamie agreed.

"But first…" Rahne said, teasingly trailing one finger down her boyfriend's chest.

Jamie smiled, shivering slightly at the light touch. "Yes?" he asked, crooking one brunet brow.

"Let's 'ave a little fun, shall we?" Rahne asked, tipping him back onto the bed.

"Sounds good to me," Jamie agreed, before the rest of his words were swallowed by her eager tongue.

Revenge could wait – this couldn't.


	11. Copy Cats

**Copy-Cats**

****

* * *

"'Real women don't have hot flashes, they have power surges.'"

"Too true, Tabby," Pietro agreed.

Glaring at her boyfriend, Tabby said, "This isn't funny, Pietro."

"No, it isn't," he agreed amicably. "But unlike the shirt I got, yours isn't insulting, either."

Giving the hot pink T-shirt in her hands a measuring look, Tabby sighed and dropped it on the table. "You're right," she admitted.

"But that doesn't mean you can't get someone back," he pointed out. "After all, it's only fair."

"True…" Tabitha agreed, fire lighting her blue eyes. "Now all I have to do is pick a target."

"Go after someone who hasn't been hit yet," was Pietro's advice. "No one should be safe from this insult war."

"Who's been hit so far?" Tabby asked, dropping down next to him on the bed.

"Well, let's see…" Pietro said, zipping across the room. When he came back to the bed moments later he held a pad of paper and a pen in his hands. "Me and Fuzzball got together and pranked the whole mansion."

"Let's just disregard that, because if we don't, then everybody will have already been hit," Tabby suggested.

"Cool," Pietro agreed. "Okay, so Jean got me, and then Freddie got Rogue, who got him back." He quickly wrote down a list of people who had been hit, listing himself, Freddie, and Rogue.

"And then Pyro went after Lance," Tabby added.

Pietro wrote down Avalanche's name, adding, "And me and Lancelot went after Drake, who went after Todd, who went after Logan…"

"And man, I can't believe frog-boy got away with it," Tabby interjected.

"Me neither," Pietro agreed, writing down Bobby, Todd and Logan's names. "Anyway, then Logan went after Jamie…"

"Jamie?" Tabby asked, nose wrinkling in confusion.

"Jamie Madrox, AKA Multiple Man, the kid who can make copies of himself," Pietro told her.

"Oh…"

"And then someone went after you, and we don't know who it was," Pietro finished.

"It was probably the Jamie kid," Tabby stated.

"Probably, but we don't know for sure," Pietro said.

Tabby shook her head, blonde curls flying. "Doesn't matter; I know just who I want to hit."

"Oh, yeah?" Pietro asked excitedly.

"It might not be fair to go after the Copy-Kid just on circumstantial evidence, but I know who I can hit that'll really make him steam," she said, cackling slightly.

Pietro smiled; his girlfriend was **so** sexy when she was plotting.


	12. Multiple Man's Best Friend

**Multiple Man's Best Friend**

****

* * *

'So I'm a bitch; what's it to ya?'

Rahne growled at the T-shirt in her hands. "What in the hell?!"

Jamie winced. "Ooh…this is bad," he mumbled. "Really bad."

"What **is** this?" she demanded, turning fiery green eyes on her boyfriend. She wadded up at the shirt and threw it across the room without looking, making a neat two-point shot in the trash basket.

Gulping, Jamie steeled himself not to inch back in the face of Wolfbane's rage. "The other kids have been playing prank tag and I guess you're it," he supplied.

"But I wasna even a part of this," she complained.

"Neither was Rogue until Freddy roped her in," Jamie revealed. "And if Jean had never gone after Lance, he wouldn't have gone after Bobby."

Rahne digested that information, one finger tapping against her chin in thought. "So…it's a free-fer-all?" she asked. "I c'n go after anyone I want?"

"Pretty much," Jamie said warily.

A wolfish grin overtaking her face, Rahne growled, "I know just the target…"

Jamie gulped. He had a feeling they were gonna get in a **lot** of trouble for whatever she had planned.

Then he grinned. _Oh, well. At least the company will be good._


	13. I Like Children Too! Know Any Good Recip...

**I Like Children Too! Know Any Good Recipes?**

**

* * *

**

"'I love children, but I don't think I could eat a whole one.'"

Hank coughed, trying to cover up his laughter.

Xavier just raised one eyebrow into his nonexistent hairline at the phrase emblazoned on the bumper sticker he held. "What has young Mr. Wagner started?" he asked, trying his level best not to chuckle.

"It wasn't just Kurt, Charles," Hank reminded him.

"Ah, yes…Magnus' son," Xavier mused. "Pietro is certainly not taking after his father in this respect."

Hank only raised an unnaturally blue eyebrow in question.

"Eric never had a very good sense of humor," Xavier revealed. "Back in college, the other students would play an April Fool's Day joke on him, and he just thought it was a waste of time."

Hank nodded and looked thoughtful. "I wonder what would happen if **he** got one of these…" he mused.

"Nothing," Xavier said immediately.

"Oh?"

"He wouldn't find it funny, and since he wouldn't find it funny, he'd consider it an insult, and try to attack whoever got him. But he'd be too busy dealing with the Acolytes getting into the game to retaliate," Xavier said, mirth clear in every word.

"So all of Magneto's grand schemes for world domination would be derailed by a little game of prank tag?" Hank asked incredulously.

Xavier nodded mock-solemnly. "We should have done this sooner. It's much better for my sanity for the students to use more cerebral attacks than constantly worrying about the degradation of their physical states."

"Indeed," Hank agreed.

They were both silent for a moment, then Hank asked, "So, who do you think we should get? Magneto?"

Tapping one finger thoughtfully on his chin, Xavier gave Hank a rather wicked grin. "No, my good doctor…I have a better idea…"


	14. Courtesy Of Your Friendly Neighborhood N...

**Courtesy Of Your Friendly Neighborhood Nightcrawler**

**

* * *

**

"This is too weird," Jubilee said vaguely, eyes tracking Kurt's progress back and forth across the hallway.

"Weird is normal here at Mutant High," Bobby joked, though his heart wasn't in it. "And you know Kurt's worried about Kitty. When people worry, they pace."

"Yeah, but…" Jubilee trailed off, shaking her head. "Whatever, man."

"Katzchen, mein liebes…" Kurt mumbled, fretting the blue fur straight off his tail in his worry as he paced back and forth. The floor was starting to grow a coat of navy blue hair as his tail was subsequently denuded of its growth.

"What'd he say?" Jamie asked sotto voce, not wanting to disturb the older mutant's pacing.

"Kitty, my love," Rahne said, voice equally as soft. She frowned. "I think, anyway. Me Gaelic's better'n me German."

"She'll be all right, you guys," St. John assured them all, raising his voice slightly so that Kurt could hear him. "She just got a bump on her head from when Logan was chasing Kurt across the grounds."

"Yeah, for the second time," Rogue groused.

"It's all my fault!" Kurt wailed, more of his fur shedding off at an alarming rate. His tail was now spotted with several bald patches, detectable only by those with good vision – Kurt's skin was apparently the same navy blue shade as his pelt.

"No, it's not, Elf," Logan grumbled. He sighed and reluctantly admitted, "It's mine. I should've been watchin' where I was goin'."

"It was no one's fault," Beast interjected as he exited the infirmary. "Things like this just happen." He was immediately inundated by inquiries as to his patient's welfare:

"Is Kitty all right?" – this in stereo from Jamie and Rahne

"Is she okay?" from Bobby, followed closely by, "Yeah, is she?" from St. John and, "Dude, is she, like, gonna be okay?" from a momentarily Valley Girl-reverted Jubilee.

"Hank, what's wrong with Half-Pint?" was Logan's thinly-veiled demand, and Kurt, for his part…

Well, Kurt went nose-to-nose with Beast and, grabbing two fistfuls of the doctor's lab coat, demanded, voice icy as a Siberian winter, "Vhere is mein Katzchen?"

"She's fine," Beast said to all of them. "Just a slight bump; she was only unconscious for a few minutes. No concussion, though I do want her to take it easy for a day or so. You can all go in and see her now," he added unnecessarily as the students stampeded towards the infirmary door.

He started as he caught sight of Kurt's mode of locomotion. "Stars and garters…"

"Yeah, kinda weird, ain't it?" Rogue put in as she watched her sort-of brother scamper off to check on his girlfriend. "Ah mean, Ah know lots of people pace when they're worried – Ah do it too, sometimes – but Kurt's version really takes tha cake." She shook her head and followed Jubilee and the others.

Logan and sighed and trailed after the girl towards the infirmary as he investigated the damage said teleporter had left behind in his wake. "I'm gonna have ta talk ta the Elf about cleanin' up after himself if he keeps that up…"

Sighing, Hank removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "Why should I be surprised?" he asked the ether. "He's 'The Incredible Nightcrawler' after all… Of **course** he paces on the ceiling."


	15. Effects Of A Good Imagination

**Effects Of A Good Imagination**

* * *

'It may not be easy being green – but do you have to eat flies?'

"Dr. McCoy says I need the specific proteins found in chitin," Todd grumbled at the hand-lettered bumper sticker. "It's not my fault – my skin color **or** my dietary needs."

"Yeah, but you, me and Hank are pretty much tha only ones who know that," Rogue pointed out.

"Still, you'd think these bozos could come up with something a little more original," Todd replied. "I mean, the first half is almost exactly the same as the first one I got."

Rogue shrugged. "Creativity isn't all that many people's strong suits."

"'Specially with this bunch," Todd agreed.

Smiling coyly, Rogue snaked one arm around Todd's neck from her position directly behind him. Slipping the bumper sticker from green-tinged hands gone numb at her touch, Rogue let it drift to the floor as she nuzzled her boyfriend's ear. "Speakin' of creativity…"

"Uh-huh?" Todd asked, his throat gone almost completely dry at her nearness.

"Why don't we show them how…creative…we can be?" she said suggestively, rubbing her hands provocatively over his T-shirt-clad chest.

"Huh?!" Todd was startled; she couldn't mean what he **thought** she meant…

Could she?

Grinning evilly where Todd couldn't see her, Rogue clarified, "Why don't we get them back…with more creative insults?" Rolling her hips against his, she added, "After we go to bed."

"But I ain't sleepy," Todd argued, even as he followed her over to her bed.

"Ah never said anythin' 'bout **sleepin'**, now, did Ah, sugar?" Rogue asked, smirking slightly.

Todd's eyes lit up. "Oh!"


	16. If The Suit Fits, Wear It!

**If The Suit Fits, Wear It!**

* * *

"I'm sorry, Half-Pint, but if you think you I am going to let you leave your room wearing **that**…you are sadly mistaken!"

Kitty huffed and stamped her foot. "Lo-gan!" she whined. "It's a swimsuit. I'm going swimming. I kinda have to wear a swimsuit to go swimming, don't I?"

"Not one like **that** you don't," the mutant known as Wolverine declared hotly.

Pouting prettily – in that way that always got Kurt to agree to anything, such as going to the Institute's Halloween Party dressed and Belle and the Beast from Beauty and the Beast – Kitty said sulkily, "You think I look fat, don't you? That's why you don't want me to wear my new bikini." Tears brimmed in her eyes and she ducked her head to hide the fact that she wasn't really crying, but rather faking it extremely well.

Logan gulped. A teenage girl – and not just any teenage girl, but Kitty Pryde, for whom he'd always had a soft spot; Kitty Pryde who he'd almost given a concussion to last week – was crying. Because of him.

_This…is bad. **Really** bad._ "N-no," he stuttered. "I think you look fit, trim, slim – pretty much in perfect shape," he rushed to reassure the girl.

_Got him,_ Kitty thought smugly. She sniffed for effect and looked up at Logan, milking her fake tears for all they were worth. "Then w-why won't you let me wear m-my new swimsuit?"

_Be strong,_ Logan counseled himself. _You are the Wolverine. You can hold up in the face of one young…cute…innocent…**crying**…teenage girl._

_An underage girl wearing a pale pink string bikini that is almost see-through even **dry**, _his conscience – the one part of him that seemed, perversely, not to be affected by displays of feminine emotion; most of it was focused on the kids under his charge, the younger girls in particular, at this moment, Kitty specifically – pointed out.With that thought, Logan firmed his resolve. "I just think you're showing too much flesh what with all those hormonal teenager boys running around out there," he said carefully. "They might get the wrong idea." _Like that you're trying to seduce your boyfriend in public…_ he thought with a mental growl towards the Institute's resident 'blue fuzzy elf'.

"But all the other girls are wearing bikinis too," Kitty pointed out reasonably. "Why can't I?" The old 'everybody else is doing it' excuse wasn't really the best one, but she did have a point. Even Storm was wearing a modest white two-piece with a bandeau top. Kitty had caught Logan giving the weather witch more than one glance out of the corner of his eye.

Sensing that he wasn't about to win this argument, Logan capitulated. Actually, he gave in like one of Remy's houses of cards when Evan barreled into it on his skateboard by accident, but let's not go there, shall we? "All right, Half-Pint. You can wear that…suit," he said, for lack of a better descriptor. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, the other waving in the direction of the hall. "Go on out to the pool, all right?"

Smiling brightly, no trace of tears on her cheeks now that her deception was at an end, Kitty chirped, "Like, thanks so much, Mr. Logan!" and scampered off to the pool. _It shouldn't be very hard to get Kurt to rub sunscreen on my back…_

Logan leaned back against the wall and heaved a heavy sigh. "Teenagers…"


	17. Humor Less

**Humor-Less**

**

* * *

**

"'Twinkies, Coffee, Women… Some things are just better rich?'"

"Huh?"

"For Beast," Bobby replied, as if it were obvious. "Hank loves Twinkies, he likes his coffee stronger than even Logan does, and while he says he and Doctor Reyes are 'just friends' I saw them kissing when she left last weekend."

Shaking his head at his boyfriend's weird train of thought, St. John said, "Nah, wouldn't work. Besides, Cecilia runs a free clinic – she doesn't **have** all that much money. And Twinkies are Twinkies, man – there's a low-fat version, but it isn't like the regular version is all that calorific."

"I guess you're right," Bobby conceded on a sigh.

"Besides, I thought you **liked** Hank," St. John added.

"Yeah, but no one's gotten him yet," Bobby said, as if that should also be obvious.

"That doesn't mean **you** have to," St. John pointed out.

"Ye-ah, but I can't figure out who to go after," Bobby admitted sheepishly.

"Why do you have to go after **anybody**?" St. John demanded. "Why can't we just let this insult feud die down and get on with our lives?"

Giving his boyfriend a disbelieving look, Bobby said, "You're kidding, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," St. John sighed. He knew it was too much to hope for that this prank war be over that easily.

But one could hope, right?

"So, anyway…" Bobby continued, oblivious to his boyfriend's thoughts. "How about, 'I may not be able to **see** right through you, but I can **walk** right through you,' for Kitty?"

St. John groaned. For all that Bobby loved playing pranks, his sense of humor was a hit or miss thing.

This was going to be a **long** afternoon.


	18. Lost And Paid Back

**Lost And Paid Back**

* * *

'I'm not a complete idiot. Some parts are missing. Such as my memories…'

"Whoever sent this has so sense of self-preservation whatsoever," Logan said in a low, rumbling growl.

"Either that, or they are full of false confidence that you will not be able to figure out who sent it," Ororo replied. "You never did find out who sent that first one."

Logan grimaced and said, "I taught the kids too good about coverin' their tracks. They can even get past me." He allowed a small smile of pride to cross his lips as he wadded up the T-shirt he'd been reading from, throwing it into a pile of dirty clothes across the room. Normally, he was neater, but ever since the advent of this newest 'game' the kids had gotten involved in, he spent more and more time trying to keep them from killing each other, and consequently, had very little time to do his laundry.

"They should not try to cut too deep with their emotional strikes, however." Ororo frowned thoughtfully. "Some of the children are extremely sensitive about their mutations; they could be deeply hurt by these 'jokes.'"

"We'll just have to keep an eye on 'em, make sure that don't happen," Logan decided firmly.

Ororo gave him a skeptical look, as if doubting it would be that easy. "The children should not have to deal with unwitting prejudice."

Logan shrugged prosaically. "The kids'll have to deal with it sooner or later; better they learn to deal with it here among friends, than out there in the cold, cruel world." He gestured out the window towards Bayville – and beyond.

Sighing in resignation, Ororo sat back on the couch, tucking her feet underneath her. "I suppose you're right. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Logan quirked a grin and snuggled up to his lover. "Me neither, darlin'. Me neither."

_Just like I don't have to like that they're targeting me. _Logan smirked. _You better look out kids, 'cause I'm gonna get ya good._


	19. Royal Amusement

**Royal Amusement**

* * *

'The Princess is not amused.'

Amara stared down at the pink shirt with silver lettering – and a crown over the 'P' – with a sad pout on her face. "I don't really act all that…arrogant…anymore, do I?" she asked, turning to her boyfriend.

_Oh, boy…_ "I never thought you were arrogant to begin with," Lance said diplomatically, exercising his little used sense of tact. _A bitch, sometimes – and you still are – but it keeps things interesting._

Magma sent her a boyfriend a Look_–_ a Lookwith a capital L_–_ telling Lance without words that she had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. She glared, then her face crumpled and she sighed. "But I **do** still act high and mighty occasionally," she admitted softly, fingers toying with the tag on the shirt.

Removing the infuriating shirt from his girlfriend's hands, Lance pulled her into his arms. "Princess, you're not nearly as bad as all that. No one's perfect, you know."

She snorted, lips turning up in the barest hint of a smile. "Maybe not, but I was more rude than I had any right to be when I first got here."

Lance chuckled. "You know…when Kitty first got here, she was afraid of Kurt."

"No way!" Amara gasped.

Lance nodded. "Way," he confirmed. "Avoided him like the plague, screamed when he got too near to her…"

Turning disbelieving eyes on her boyfriend, Amara said, "You're kidding."

"Nope," Lance said firmly. He blinked at her reaction. While he'd thought that his words would make her feel better, he hadn't expected her to laugh.

"What's so funny, 'Mara?" Lance asked once she'd calmed down a bit.

She giggled and smiled at him, saying through her laughter, "I was just thinking…**now **I'm amused."

Lance groaned at the lame joke.


	20. Green And Geeky

**Green And Geeky**

* * *

'I would call you a geek, but in the circus, a geek was a guy who bit the heads off of chickens.'

'Oh, wait…change that to **bugs**…'

"Why can't they lay off my eating habits?" Todd demanded frustratedly of the homemade bumper sticker in his hands.

Rogue shrugged nonchalantly. "Easy target?" she offered.

"Too easy," Todd seethed, ripping the bumper sticker up. "You'd think some of these guys would put in a little more effort."

"Like you're gonna do?" Rogue asked knowingly.

Todd smirked evilly. "Exactly."

Rogue snickered. "This should be **good**…"


	21. Red Hot

**Red Hot**

* * *

"I don't dye my hair," Jean said, apropos of nothing.

"Okay," Scott said agreeably, turning another page of the Sports section. He took a sip of his coffee and waited for Jean to continue – he knew she would, she wasn't just going to let this go. He'd been waiting for three weeks for her to bring this up, and now that she had…

Well, it was a good thing it was Saturday. He had a feeling it would take the next forty-eight hours for her to finally spit everything out.

"I really don't," Jean reiterated, staring nervously down into her glass of orange juice. "It's just a rinse that I use sometimes to make my hair brighter. Chlorine from the pool and all the…sweat from basketball practice and Danger Room sessions tends to make the color dull."

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Scott said. "I think Bobby has some blond hair rinse he uses for the same reason." He lowered his coffee cup to the table and added, "At least your hair doesn't turn green if you spend too long in the swimming pool."

Jean smiled crookedly. "Yeah, it just looks slightly…brown. Or orange, depending…" She sighed and looked directly at him. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Frowning slightly, Scott lowered his newspaper and returned her gaze. "Why wouldn't I be?" Reaching out, he clasped one of her hands in his own. "Jean, even if you **did** dye your hair, I'd still love you. It doesn't matter to me if your hair is red, brown, purple with green polka-dots…"

Jean snorted.

Scott smiled and continued, "…or if you're bald. I love you."

"Well, as long as you don't think I'm a blond in disguise…" She blushed slightly and ducked her head.

"No, Jean. You're my Red, and you always will be." With that, he pulled her close for a kiss. He accidentally knocked over his coffee cup and spent the next few seconds thanking whatever deity looked out for mutants that Jean was telekinetic – hot coffee in his lap was **not** conducive to kissing.

A hot **girl** in his lap…


	22. Weight Watching

**Weight Watching**

* * *

"'I'm not overweight, I'm undertall,'" Freddy read off the size triple XL T-shirt in his hands. There was a picture of Garfield, in all his rotund glory, right underneath the words.

Pietro snickered. "Freddie, man, I hate to break it to ya – but you'd have to be about twenty feet tall in order not to be considered overweight."

A mulish expression coming over his doughy face, Freddie said haughtily, "Actually, I calculated it, and I'd only have to be about seventeen feet tall."

Pietro burst out laughing. Taking in Freddie's murderous expression, he, 'Eeeped!' in fear and sped away, his manic chuckles drifting through the air back towards them.

Todd rolled his eyes. "What, man, you been on a diet?" he asked facetiously.

Freddie grinned widely. "Yeah, I joined Weight Watchers a month ago. You noticed already?" he asked.

Lance coughed. "Er…yeah, man, great job. You're lookin' slimmer every day," he said through teeth gritted in a smile.

"Thanks, guys. That means a lot coming from you." Wadding up the T-shirt in his hands, he lumbered off to the kitchen to fix himself a frozen Weight Watchers dinner.

Lance and Todd looked after him and then exchanged disbelieving looks.

"I didn't notice anything. You?" Todd whispered in a hushed voice. Freddie may have been slow on the uptake, but his hearing was phenomenal.

Lance shook his head. "I don't spend all that much time looking at Freddie, man." He grimaced at the thought.

"Me neither." Todd gulped as a very scary thought occurred to him. "What are we gonna do if he starts askin' us if he looks fat in his clothes?"

Lance's eyes went wide. "Move out," he said readily. "Professor X'll take us in."

Todd nodded his agreement. Rustles came from the kitchen and the sound of Freddie's footsteps heading their way. Hopping off his perch on the back of the couch, Todd grabbed his jacket and opened the front door. "In the meantime…I think I'm gonna go visit Rogue."

Giving one last look towards the kitchen, praying Freddie would detour towards the stairs – and whimpering when he didn't – Lance jumped up and grabbed his keys. "Wait up, man! I'll drive ya."

When Freddie entered the room, a steaming tray of chicken tetrazinni and a glass of skim milk in his hands, it was to find the other two boys gone. "Huh. Wonder where they went?" Shrugging, he carefully sat down on the couch and clicked the TV on. "Guess I'll have to watch WWF by myself." Picking up his fork, he dug into his dinner.


	23. Witchy Weirdness

**Witchy Weirdness**

* * *

They called her the Bitch of Bayville High, and she was immensely proud of that.

Wanda Maximoff had never been one for 'going with the flow,' but even she knew that without a high school diploma she wouldn't get far in the world. Sure, she could use her hex power to get herself anything she needed, but without a job she'd just end up staying in her apartment all day and watching soap operas.

No. Fucking. Way. Those were her thoughts on the matter.

So she went to school – and did her best not to use her hex powers to pass tests and the like, since she knew she'd need the knowledge once she got to college – gritted her teeth, and tried to put up with the insufferable teenage student body. The only ones she considered even slightly bearable were the X-Men and the former Brotherhood. Most of the X-Men were afraid of her, so they left her alone. The ones who weren't knew she didn't like people, and rarely talked to her unless they deemed it necessary. Ditto for the Brotherhood.

But lately they'd been more divided than usual. It used to be, since the two groups had broken up into couples, that the lovebirds would sit in pairs together. Now…

The group dynamics changed from day to day. A few weeks ago Lance and Amara had been on the outs, Rogue and Todd – Wanda was so glad the frog boy had given up his crush on her – had been eating outside so Todd could supplement his lunch with the occasional fly (which was weird, since now that he was able to actually **bring** or **buy** his lunch, he'd quit eating as many bugs) and Pietro and Kurt seemed to be persona non grata at the mutant tables up until last week.

Something was going on. Wanda still hadn't figured out **what**, but she was going to find out.

And when she did…

Well, there were too many of them to beat, so perhaps she'd just join them.

And beat them from the inside.


	24. Pretty, Prissy Princess

**Pretty, Prissy Princess**

* * *

'Never criticize the Princess.'

Amara frowned worriedly down at the pink-on-black T-shirt in her hands. "I don't really act all that high and mighty anymore…do I?" she asked of her boyfriend, a feeling of déjà vu filling the air at her words. It was obvious she was hoping for a negative answer.

It was equally as obvious that despite her rather despondent expression, the fire lurking in her eyes told Lance that if he **didn't** answer in the negative, he'd be one crispy-fried, scorched rock.

"I never thought you acted high and mighty to begin with," Lance said, exercising his little-used and even more rarely-seen (outside of the bedroom) sense of tact. _A bitch, occasionally, but at least you're interesting, _he thought, one again experiencing a feeling of déjà vu.

Brightening a bit, Amara asked, "Really?"

"Really," Lance confirmed. _Prissy, domineering, in a damn bad mood more often than not, but not high and mighty._

"You're so sweet," Amara said, which put Lance on guard. He was pretty sure she hadn't suddenly developed telepathy, but one could never be sure if Jean was eavesdropping and had decided to inform her of his thoughts. She was rather loose about her telepathic ethics when it came to 'helping' people with their relationships. "I could never have a better boyfriend than you," she continued, dropping the shirt on her dresser to come over and wrap her arms around him as she perched on his lap.

_Because no one else could put up with you?_ "Well, I will admit that there aren't any other guys as handsome as I am," Lance boasted pompously, pleased when he got a giggle out of her. Despite her playful tone and romantic words, Lance could still see she was hurt by the insult. It would have worn off by tomorrow, replaced by anger as she sought out someone else to prank, but right now he'd prefer to use their free hour before dinner for something **besides** talking.

Amara pushed on his chest and he fell back on the bed where he'd been sitting. She straddled Lance and looked down at him with a gleam in her eye. "And there aren't any other girls as pretty as **I** am, either," she replied, leaning down to kiss him.

_Now that's one thing we **can** agree on,_ was Lance's final thought before he gave up thinking in favor of **acting**.


	25. No Place To Hide

**No Place To Hide**

* * *

Finding Pietro Maximoff hiding in her closet was **not** something Rogue expected.

"What the fuck? Pietro!" Rogue swore.

Pietro grinned weakly and waggled his fingers at her from underneath the black and green drape of her clothes. "Er…hey, Roguey."

Rogue's eyes narrowed, snapping with fire. "**What** are you **doing** in my **room**?" she demanded.

"I'm hiding from **her**!" Pietro hissed, eyes flicking back and forth as if he were afraid this infamous 'her' would jump out from the shadows and attack him.

Maybe he was.

"You're the only one she's really afraid of; she'd never risk tempting your wrath by trying to kill me here." Pietro smiled at his reasoning, secure in the fact that his continued existence was not in peril as long as he remained inside Rogue's closet. His logic had, however, forgotten to take into account the fact that Rogue would, most likely, not **let** him stay in her closet.

Rouge blinked. "Her? Her who? I know Amara hasn't gotten anyone yet, but she's not all that afraid of me, and I didn't think **you** were scared of."

Pietro's eyes went wide in shock. "Rogue, I'm not talking about the prissy princess. I'm talking about **Wanda**."

The minute his sister's name left his lips, a crash of thunder boomed overhead – despite the fact that the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky.

Rogue's eyes went wide. "What was that?" she asked, despite the fact that she was pretty sure she knew.

Pietro whimpered. "Wanda's mad I didn't let her join in."

"Join in what?" Rogue asked testily, irritated with the boy's caginess.

"Join in with me and Kurt when we pranked the mansion," Pietro said miserably, wincing as another loud boom echoed across Bayville. "Oooh, she's pissed…"

"And now you're hiding from Wanda in **my** closet because you're under the impression she's **afraid** of me?" Rogue demanded incredulously.

Pietro nodded vigorously. "Oh, but she is! She'd never say so, but I know she thinks you're a bigger bitch than she is, and vindictive to boot, and with Wanda that's about the equivalent of her breaking down into sobs whenever she hears your name."

Three successive booms sounded in the air after his words, as if Wanda had heard him and was raging at him for revealing her weakness.

She most likely **had** heard.

Pietro looked out the window nervously, gulping when he noticed the dark cloud zooming across the otherwise clear blue sky towards the mansion. "Oh, shit…"

"I am having **no** part of this," Rogue said, her hands held out before as if dismissing the situation.

Pietro's head jerked around so fast she thought it might pop off his neck. He gasped and jumped towards her, wrapping his arms around her legs. "No, Rogue, you can't!" he yelled, panicked.

"Can and will," she said through teeth gritted with the strain as she tried to remove the speed mutant leech from her person.

"No…" Pietro moaned, turned begging eyes upwards.

"Yes," Rogue argued, finally succeeding in peeling Pietro off of her and stalking out of her room. He landed on the floor with a thump. Fortunately it was right before Wanda's message appeared.

Written in air over his head – directly over his head; barely a foot away – in green hexfire, were the words: 'You can run, but you can't hide, Silver.'

Pietro whimpered and cowered underneath the bed in a futile attempt to prove her words wrong.


	26. Flickering Out

**Flickering Out**

* * *

"'My mind works like a cigarette lighter – if I let it out from under my thumb, it disappears.'"

Bobby was on the floor laughing his head off almost before St. John had finished reading the T-shirt in his hands.

Glaring heatedly – no mutant powers pun intended – at his boyfriend, Pyro said icily – ditto this pun – "Do you find something **funny**, Ice Man?"

Bobby snickered to a halt and answered with apparent disregard for his continued existence, "Yeah – you." He then once again started up a laugh track for his demise in wake of his answer.

Feeling his blood boil in a way which had nothing to do with his mutant fire power, St. John asked – more like demanded – "What is so funny about this? I'm **not** stupid."

"No, you aren't," Bobby agreed, his levity finally starting to subside. "That's **why** it's so funny – because it's so wrong. You make straight A's in the advanced classes, and are on the honor roll. That shirt is so wrong it's **funny**," he said, pointing to the scrap of cloth in St. John's hand. His own was practically shaking he was laughing so hard.

Unwillingly, a small, almost nonexistent, smile started twitching at the corners of the redhead's lips. It **was** rather funny, now that he thought about it.

His almost-smile disappeared. But that didn't mean the insult chain was going to end here. No way. He still had revenge to get.

Flicking on his lighter, St. John grinned maniacally. Someone's ass was going to be burned to a crisp before Pyro was through.


	27. Revenge Is Best Served In Large Helpings

**Revenge Is Best Served In Large Helpings**

Kurt let out a sigh. Avoiding the others for the past few weeks had saved him from physical retribution…

But now he had to deal with the mental payback. Three T-shirts, two bumper stickers, and a coffee mug – all with insults printed on them.

A plain white T-shirt read, 'I'm not bad, I just prank that way,' in black lettering.

Kurt snorted. That was somewhat funny, but not very original.

'I'm not a clown, but I pretend to be one in the circus,' graced a blue T-shirt in yellow letters – that had one Kitty written all over it. Literally, since he knew he'd mentioned thinking the slogan was funny to her a month or so previously. Kurt grinned devilishly. He'd have to find a way to thank her…

A black T-shirt with thick white letters proclaimed, 'Chaos, panic, disorder…my work here is done.'

Kurt frowned. "I'm not **zat** bad," he stated to his empty room.

The room did not deign to reply.

The first bumper sticker read: _It's not easy being blue and fuzzy._

Kurt snickered. The letters were even blue and fuzzy-looking. That was definitely Todd's work – he remembered how incensed the amphibious mutant was over the Kermit the Frog toy he'd received with that T-shirt.

One of his better pranks yet – and by getting Bobby's help, no one was the wiser to the true instigator.

The second bumper sticker said, 'What if the hokey-pokey is really what's it's all about?'

Kurt snorted. Funny, but it wasn't really specific to him.

His yellow slitted eyes widened. _Unless…_ "Evan did vonce say zat my gymnastics routine looks like de hokey-pokey." Growling, Kurt crushed the slip of sticky-backed paper in one tri-dactyl hand. He then threw the balled up insult into his trashcan, making a two-point shot off the rim.

The capper was the coffee mug with – _This is my 'I'm not awake yet, so leave me the fuck alone!' face_ – emblazoned across it in bright red letters.

He actually kind of liked that one. Far from his original fears, aside from Evan's bumper sticker, none of his 'insults' had actually been all that insulting.

A slow smirk spread across Kurt's face. "But zat doesn't mean I can't still get zem back, no?" He chuckled under his breath, and began to plot, determined to outdo himself this time.


End file.
